


Home

by Waffleberry



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, S3 speculation based on trailer and theories floating around the fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2376191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waffleberry/pseuds/Waffleberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Felicity turns down an offer for her heart, Oliver decides to not repeat his mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't intend to write this one but I've been hanging around Olicty Tumblrs recently and all the speculation drove me to it. Happy countdown to S3! Hope you like it!

Oliver was looking down at the keys in the ignition as his fingers gently flicked against them, causing them to knock against each other and make a soft clinking noise. The car was off; he had been parked here for the past five minutes in the dark, trying to reason with himself; trying to calm his simmering emotions; trying to temper the joy that was threatening to burst forth from him, a result of the hope that had never ever quite left his heart or his soul; the resurgent hope that had flared in his chest when he’d been apprised of events earlier that night. When Ray had confided in him about Felicity refusing to marry him, Oliver could not stop the absolute surge of relief that had followed.

He wasn't delaying because he lacked the courage to push the issue – well, perhaps he did after all, when he thought about it – it was that he wasn’t sure he deserved it. After everything he had done, after all the hurt he had caused her (the extent of which he had only truly understood tonight), what right did he have? He wanted to fight the smile pulling at his lips but he couldn’t really. He had the right. He had every right. She had given him that privilege.

His heart was pounding - it hadn't come down from its high ever since Ray had let him know about Felicity. She was finally willing to accept that they could -  _they should_ \- be together. He knew that he had deliberately set her mind against it. He'd had to, in order to keep her safe. But when he'd had his own epiphany about who he was and how woven into his being she had become, she hadn't been anywhere near his mindset. He'd done his job well, he mused, and he'd been working so hard to undo the damage he'd caused. He would willingly accept his suffering if it meant that she would be happy. How perfect it was, then, that ending her suffering also meant ending his. They were in sync like that.

He looked up at the windows of Felicity’s townhouse, tapping his finger against his knee before he suddenly opened the car door and swiftly walked up to the door, taking the pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream with him. It was just past midnight and he wondered if she would be startled to find him there or if she would be expecting him. Softly, he exhaled, noting that he was anxious; knowing that his enthusiasm could alarm her and that was the last thing he wanted.

The chiming ring of her doorbell reached him outside, followed by tentative footsteps coming towards the door. There was a long silence after he heard the last step approach the door and he knew that she was weighing the benefits of opening the door or pretending that she didn’t know he was there.

 _Please, Felicity_ , he thought. _Don’t shut me out. Not now.  
_

He heard the scraping of the locks opening and a few moments later, he was looking at her in her plaid pyjama bottoms and well-worn MIT tee shirt. Her hair had been rolled into a bun at her nape and the tip of her nose was red. Through her glasses, he noticed that her eyes looked glossy, further confirmation that she had been crying. He knew the reason. He _knew_. He knew it wasn’t the obvious reason. He wondered if she would be willing to admit it tonight or if she wasn't quite ready. She would never lie to him, but she also wouldn’t share unnecessarily.

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice low and full of concern.

“Hi.” She sounded tired and drained and his heart ached at the defeated tone he heard from her. “What are you doing here?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest, as she briefly closed her eyes before popping them open to look up at him.

“I heard,” he replied in explanation, holding the ice cream up as a peace-offering. “Thought this would help.”

There was a glint in her eye as she glanced at the container and she tilted her head, studying him for a moment. “All right, Oliver. Only because you bought the right brand.”

With that, Felicity turned on her heels, taking the ice cream with her as she headed back into the house, a buoyant Oliver following in her wake. Gratitude flooded through him that she had been willing to talk to him now, rather than push him away and eventually deal with it later. He closed the door behind him, locking it and peeking through the peephole, running quick surveillance of their surroundings before he removed his shoes to enter her home.

"You honestly think I don't know your favourite?" he asked as he entered the kitchen to see her tucking the carton in her freezer.

She looked at him, considering him before she muttered, "Of course you do. Of course." She walked away from the freezer, heading to the living room and at his questioning look, she informed him, "I already started processing. Besides, this thing is soft. What did you do - go Arrowing with it before you came here?"

His lips twitched at that and he trailed after her, eyes never leaving her face as she plopped herself down on her couch and looked at him.

“So, who told you?” she asked, sounding neither overtly curious nor entirely disinterested.

He sat down, consciously positioning himself close to her so that their knees were touching. A few moments passed while he observed her features, taking in the pale colour of her cheeks and the tiredness around her eyes. Instinctively, he placed his hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention to him as he enjoyed her warmth through the thin material of her top.

“Are you okay?” He needed to hear it from her. She didn’t appear to be heartbroken and based on what Ray had told him, she wasn't devastated over their breakup but he needed her to confirm it.

“Who told you?” she deflected, eyes roaming around him, moving from his shoulder to the couch to his forehead - anywhere but his own blue gaze.

“Felicity," he said evenly, in the tone he reserved for conversing with her, "Can you tell me if you’re okay? Please?”

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. His hand moved of its own volition, capturing her chin between his thumb and forefinger. At his touch, she responded, “I’m okay.”

Oliver let himself relax with her admission. _One less thing to worry about_.

“But who told you?” she persisted.

He waited until she opened her eyes, his fingers moving from her chin to her jaw, briefly idling there before he let his hand drop. “Ray did.”

She froze then, her eyes locking with his and he saw the worry in her eyes. “Oh God, what did he tell you?” She looked away, eyes rising to the ceiling as she leaned back into the couch. He focused on her, seeing the agitation creep into her, making her fidget until she started edging away from him. His hand shot out to her elbow in an attempt to halt her movements and keep her near.

“I’d rather hear it from you,” he encouraged, dipping his head towards her in an attempt to get her to look at him again. He understood her discomfort; he was pretty sure that if he were in her place, he wouldn't have wanted to re-open the wounds he had caused so long ago.

“What did he tell you, Oliver?”

Oliver sighed, knowing that he would have preferred if she told him, if she opened up to him. She hadn’t been the one to tell him but from the minute he had heard the words, he couldn’t wait any more, he couldn't stay away. He needed to talk to her; he needed her to talk to him; he needed to end this state of denial he had put them both in, once and for all.

"He said he asked you to marry him." Oliver inhaled, struggling with his voice to remain calm, not wanting the sheer optimism he felt to shine through and scare her. "You refused."

She seemed to sense his anxiety and for some reason, that put her more at ease; perhaps, because she wasn't the only one who wasn't entirely comfortable with the situation.

"Did he give you a reason?"

Oliver took both of her hands in his, gently stroking her knuckles in a soothing motion. She looked at him and he saw the trepidation lingering in her face. "He gave me many. I hadn't realised... " his words trailed off as he tried to let her know that he had thought she was moving on; he had thought she was finding some measure of happiness; he had thought she was building a future with Ray - the future he had told her she couldn't have with him; the future he had later told her he was willing to fight for if she would, too. He had made peace with her decision - because it meant she was happy. Or at least he thought he had made peace with it. The violent emotion that had come over him when Ray had confessed that he knew Felicity loved Oliver indicated otherwise. "I know I caused you pain but I didn't know how much... I never meant to.." He brought her hands to his lips, brushing them lightly across her fingers, trying to atone for his sins. He had only meant to protect her; to keep her safe. He wasn't supposed to damage her. "I am sorry." He brought her hands to his chest, bowing over them, offering her his remorse, his regret, knowing he more than owed it to her. "I am so, so sorry, Felicity."

She looked down at his bent head, wanting to run her hand through his thick hair to comfort him. She always wanted to, even with the distance and misery he had put them through.

"Care to tell me what for, because the way I see it, there's a hell of a lot..."

He raised his head at that, grateful for the teasing lilt in her voice. That alone encouraged him to keep holding her hands, to keep them connected.

"So," she began, "which of these many reasons brought you here tonight?" He couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face as she added, "With _my_ ice cream?"

His hand moved to capture her cheek. "You."

As she looked at him, about to either probe more or state that wasn't specific enough, he continued, "The fact that I'm in love with you. I always was." He tilted his head, pinning her with a soft smile. "I always will be."

He felt her trembling beneath his touch, desperately trying not to let the tears that glimmered in her eyes fall. His smile broadened, enjoying the release of telling her exactly what he wanted to every time he saw her; every time he was alone with her; every time he heard her voice or felt her touch. He wanted to say it, he needed to say it - to her. There was no good argument for holding back anymore, nothing standing in their way. There was nothing coming between them for once - not him, not her, not anyone else; not even his misguided sense of honour. She had broken down all his walls - _yet again_ \- by refusing to give up on him; by refusing to give him up.

"I came here because I love you so much I can't hide it even when I try." A single tear rolled down her cheek and she blinked, trying to clear her vision. His thumb gently brushed across her cheek, sweeping the moisture away. "Ray said that he's seen the way I am with you and he knew, he just knew that he couldn't compete with that. But he tried anyway."

She shot him a look so wounded that that he wondered if he would ever be able to make it up to her. "Because you left me with no option."

He clenched her hand with his, hoping his touch would help her understand how much that pained him. "I know. But even through all of that, I didn't know how to not love you. Ray said that when I'm with you, no one else exists. We get so wrapped up in each other that we forget the world."

There was a small smile gracing her face. "We do tend to do that. I overheard Roy telling Lyla once."

Her concession soothed his fears and he suddenly wanted her to hear it all. "Ray also told me that you're someone who deserves the best in life." His fingers slid down her cheek to trace her jawline. "And that I was denying you that by not being with you. Because, no matter how much he loved you, no matter how much anyone else loved you, it would never be the way I love you."

Another tear chased after the first one and he used his knuckles to wipe it away, tracing up and down her cheek. "And when I realised that a while ago, I told you I would wait for you. No matter how long it took." He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers, letting his eyelids close and breathing in the unique scent of her. "Because we're stronger together. We always have been." He opened his eyes, wanting desperately to kiss her doubts away. He briefly wondered if he would ever stop wanting when it came to her. "But the main reason I came here now, the most important reason? Is that now I know you want to be with me. Just like you knew I want to be with you."

Felicity sighed at his obtuseness, recognising the truth that no matter what had happened, fate was devoted to driving them together. "We _are_ stronger together," she agreed. "We're better together."

Oliver's heart swelled with joy at her disclosure, accepting that she believed he deserved better and was willing to grant it to him. She moved suddenly, splaying her fingers against his chest, against the pounding cadence of his heart and he let himself feel her touch,  _really feel_ her touch - it had been so rare for so long. It didn't last long. Her hands were withdrawn a breath later and she scooted back into the corner of her couch, arms and legs crossed as if to steel herself for what would come.

"Do you know," she whispered, "when I had my lightbulb moment?" She had been looking away from him but as she ended her question, she focused entirely on his face, trying to read his expression, trying to make him see it the way she had.

Oliver thought he had an idea; Ray, having been declined, had been eager to confide truths to Oliver; truths he'd hoped would wake Oliver up to the beautiful reality that faced him. Although Oliver wasn't sure what moment Felicity was referring to, he figured it had to have been the one thing that really bothered Ray.

"A few weeks ago, he told me," she continued, "that I never talked about home as if he were part of it."

Oliver's breath felt trapped in his body because he knew what was coming.

"He said that whenever I talked about going home, I didn't include him. Apparently, I never said 'Let's go home.' I never talked about our home, I never welcomed him home. But," she held his gaze as she gathered the strength to continue, "whenever you guys went out at night, I always told you to come back home. Whenever you were hurt, I always told Roy or Diggle or even Ray to bring you back home. Whenever I was looking after you, I would tell you that it's okay; that you were home." She paused, taking a deep breath as she looked him. "He said that to me, you were home and he wanted to change that. And then tonight, after I said no, he realised that he never could."

He was sure the beginnings of a smile were on his face. He was sure because he felt it in his heart. He made his voice steady so she would understand the sincerity of his words. "Home is where you are." She closed her eyes at his words, as if relishing them, as if embracing them with her very soul.

His hand reached out to her, fingers traching patterns on her knee and he waited until her eyes fluttered open before proceeding, "Somewhere between saving my life and saving my soul, you became my home."

"And you became mine," she responded. "I know you thought there was Oliver and there was The Arrow but once you let me in on it, you were only ever Oliver to me. And you became a part of me. And then I realised that no matter how hard I tried or how hard you pushed me away," head shaking as she spoke, "I would never be able to love anyone else the way I love you."

He closed his eyes, hand closing over her knee as her words washed over him, a step towards redemption; a step towards her sanctuary. "Can you say it again?"

"I love you, Oliver," she reinforced, moving closer to him as her hand cupped his cheek and turned his face towards her. "I never stopped." He leaned into her touch, rubbing his stubble against her palm, loving the feel of it. The smile he wore only for her adorned his face. "Do you know why?"

He lightly shook his head, warmth flowing through him as her other hand came up to meet his other cheek.

"Because there was never any choice to make."

His eyes latched on to hers and he leaned in, closing the distance between them, mouths meeting in one harmonised movement. He tasted her lips, trapping their sweet softness between his own, nibbling and teasing, loving the way she smiled against him. His arms swept around her and he brought her closer, drawing her onto his lap, letting his hands run up and down her back to make her shiver. It was she who probed with her tongue, sliding it between his lips to tangle with his. The moment they met, he inhaled deeply, memorising everything in that instant - the way she tasted, the heady aroma of her, the softness of her skin, the way she felt on him, one leg wrapped around him, the way her chest rose and fell against his, her warmth embracing him; warmth meeting warmth; desire meeting desire; heart beating against heart. Her fingers lightly scraped against his stubble and he cherished the sensation of kissing Felicity with the knowledge that this was their true beginning. He was hers and she was his; there was no refuting it now.

She broke away from him, resting her forehead against his as she let her laboured breathing settle a bit before she asked, "Are you going to stay?"

He tucked the few strands of hair that had strayed from her bun behind her ear, tilting her chin up and brushing her nose with his before he looked into her eyes. "With you? Forever."

 

 

 


End file.
